The Dying Wish
by ObsessiveCompulsiveforhp
Summary: Four years after the final battle, Harry Potter is moving on. He's just about finished hiw Auror training, lives peacefully at home with Kreacher, and is contemplating Marriage. But, his whole world spins out of control on night, after a visit from Malfoy
1. Chapter 1

Harry groaned. He'd been reading the same paragraph over and over for the past fifteen minutes, and still hadn't taken in a word of it. It didn't help that Farworth's Guide to Crowd Control was as dull as Professor Binn's old History of Magic classes. Raking a hand through his hair, he turned a page and prepared to read.

The red hair was the first thing he saw. The picture covered most of the page , featuring Ginny Weasley, in all her red-headed freckled glory, curled up on the window seat in his study, the bright afternoon sun giving her a orange glow for a halo. Harry could feel the floppy grin spread across his face. When he was finally able to tear his eyes away from the photo, his eyes locked onto the very seat he'd been staring at. He could almost see her laying there, dainty feet curled up under her, fingers loosely splayed over the book she'd fallen asleep reading. Reluctantly, he blinked, and the image was gone.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh. He'd never get through this book in time for his very last Auror examination tomorrow. He slipped off his glasses and pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes till little bursts of light erupted behind his lids. From these came the vision of Ginny, dressed in the cream colored sweater he'd bought her for Christmas, Ron and Hermione all half laughing, half singing 'Happy Birthday' to a beaming Mrs. Weasley, while George and Arthur carried a six tiered cake covered in sparklers towards the table. It was the party he'd left early to come home and study.

What a wonderful plan that turned out to be.

With a shake of his head Harry grunted. 'Concentrate, Harry.' He could hear Hermione urging him. "I know," he grumbled. Heaving another sigh, he decided he really, really needed some tea.

With a crack, Kreacher appeared right at Harry's elbow, bearing a tea tray complete with double chocolate biscuits. He couldn't help but smile at the wrinkled elf as he set the tray upon the desk and poured a cup for him.

"Thank you, Kreacher."

The house elf gave a weathered smile and bowed. "Master Harry most welcome." And he disappeared with a snap.

For four years he'd lived alone with Kreacher. Of course he'd been frequently visited by Ron and Hermione and most of all Ginny and little Teddy Lupin, but Number Four Grimauld Place had been home to him and the house elf only. Of course, he had always planned to change that.

With the end of his Auror training drawing near, plans were already being made for his and Ginny's wedding. It was to be in the summer, very soon after his graduation. He'd bring the new Mrs. Harry Potter home to Grimauld Place, and be alone no longer.

But his thoughts were getting away from him. Carefully taking a sip of the hot liquid steaming before him, he pulled his textbook closer to him, and determinedly set his mind to studying.

Hours later the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. With difficulty Harry, disentangled his mind from the depths of Countering Cacophonous Crowds, and peered around him. The candle light flickered in a nonexistent breeze, and Harry cautiously pulled his wand.

To defend against what though?

A silent breeze ruffled his hair, a faint whisper rushing through him. "Harry."

His heart raced now. The voice was vaguely familiar. One he had not heard in years. Whose though? It caused his skin to convert to gooseflesh, as his mind struggled to place a face to the voice that was once again calling his name. "Harry, please."

The room began to dim, yet at the same time become brighter. Another room was coming into view, its view mostly obscured by the head that seemed to lean very close to his face.

'Please?" the voice asked again.

Harry moved slightly, confused by what was happening, but wary that it may be a trap. "Set by whom though?' his tired brain asked. His curiosity won out, and he found himself asking "Please what?"

The figure seemed to jump, and then said in a feverish, hushed voice, "Shhh! They know I'm here. I don't have much time. I need you Harry. Please say you'll do it. He's all I have left. I owe you my life, I know, but Harry, please. Please don't let them take him."

"You owe me your life." Harry repeated. Almost everyone thought they did. "Er, who are you?"

The very next instant his question was answered, as a door was slammed shut far behind the speaker and they turned quickly to stare at the door, the candlelight catching itself on the blonde strands of one Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?"

He whipped his head around again, nervously glancing at the door. "Yes."

Now Harry was more confused than anything. It seemed that Draco was in trouble, terrible trouble, because he'd never seen his fellow schoolmate more frightened, not even when he was seconds away from being burnt alive by cursed fire. But Draco wasn't asking Harry to save his skin. No. He was asking that Harry save someone else. His father? Harry wrinkled his nose incredulously as he watched the former Slytherin twitch with the unmistakable bearing of someone who had been recently Crucioed.

'What are you going on about, Draco. Are you being tortured?"

Whatever concern Harry felt for the young man apparently sitting before him was doubled as he watched Draco cover his head with his arms as he curled in on himself and sobbed. Harry's mind was rife with possibilities. Something had to be very wrong to reduce Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and Slytherin Prince to tears.

"Draco," he said sternly. "Answer me."

"Yes!" He hissed the word as if it were forced from his lips. He gazed at Harry with the wild look of someone who was cornered and desperate. Extracting his fingers from his hair, Draco began to rock pitifully back and forth, sobbing quietly.

"By who Draco?" The blonde man did not answer, but continued to rock at a steady pace, making faint keening noises into the silence.

"Draco," Harry said, trying the tone that had worked earlier. But Draco only shook his head and said "Please Harry. Just say you'll take care of him. Say You'll keep him safe"

Harry looked at Draco with bewildered eyes. "But who Draco? Where is he?" When no answer was forthcoming, Harry shouted "What is going on?"

A door slammed somewhere in the distance, and Draco launched himself forward so that he was inches from Harry. "My son. Please Harry, I beg you. Keep him safe. They will kill me. They've already taken Lavender, my Lavender." Draco's pitiful voice faltered as he spoke. "Please say you'll keep my son safe. Don't let them get him Harry. Say you won't." His pale haggard face was so close Harry could see the spittle pool in the corners of his mouth. Footsteps were coming towards them, someone was lifting charms and enchantments as they went. "Promise me," Draco pleaded. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. The look of wild terror in Draco's eyes nearly paralyzed him with fear. "He is a child Potter! His blood will be on your head!" Malfoy was sobbing now, great big tears rolling down his sunken cheeks. "Please Harry!" he shouted. "Please."

His mind was whirling. What had Draco done? He reached forward and grabbed hold of the blonde's shoulder. "I promise. Now where is he." His wand in his hand emitted a few red sparks as he gripped it tightly. No one would die tonight. Not if he could help it.

"Wizard's Oath?"

Another door slammed. Voices could be heard grumbling loudly about stupid prisoners shouting at all hours of the night. Draco began to shake with more force, and latched onto Harry's hand. "Wizard's Oath! Say it!" he cried. Harry, seeing no other immediate alternative, reluctantly gave in.

"Wizard's Oath." He watched his old nemesis wheeze in relief before he asked again who was torturing him. Draco, for an answer, wrenched himself out of Harry's grip. Enraged, Harry tried to follow him as he retreated across the richly decorated but dirty room, but found he could not. "Draco!" He managed to whisper. The room he was in began to fade.

Silver eyes met green as Draco said, in a carrying whisper as the room vanished. "He will come when I am gone. He will come straight to you Potter, as soon as I am dead."

Heart pounding, Harry's eyes refocused on the opposite wall of his study. He rapidly blinked his eyes, then settled for rubbing them, trying to decide who he should call first, St. Mungo's or The Burrow. He reopened his eyes, and when they adjusted to the light, found Kreacher gazing at him in concern.

"Is Master Harry alright?" the elf asked, fingers twisting nervously.

Harry sank back into the armchair he was in. "No Kreacher, I don't think I am."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Several days went by in their usual way, and Harry forgot about the strange visit.

His examinations were done, and he was anxiously awaiting the results, trying and miserably failing to distract himself with George in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

It wasn't until Andromeda Tonks showed up with young Teddy for a surprise visit that he realized with far too much clarity the events of that night and the repercussions they would have.

He was about to become a father. _Oh Merlin_, he thought, _how had this happened_. It was quite a different matter from that of Teddy, who was studying his Uncle Harry through a shock of turquoise hair. He had merely been asked to be his god-father. Part-time parenting, so to speak. Here, he had accepted to care for the Malfoy child. To keep him safe. He had made a _Wizard's Oath_. No matter what way Harry looked at it, he was stuck. He imagined the child had a horrid name, like Scorpius Lucius. Harry's mind was racing. The child would then be Scorpius Lucius Malfoy _Potter. 'Oh sweet Circe,_ he cried inwardly,_ what have I done?'_

What would Ginny think?

The sounds Harry made had Teddy gazing at him from his place on the drawing room carpet, his toy wand held aloof as he temporarily forgot the spell he had intended to cast at a pair of very disobedient and inanimate blocks. They had been moving a moment before, right before Uncle Harry made that strange noise. Perhaps he had scared them, and they were waiting till Harry made a happier noise. This reasoning made sense to Teddy, and, clambering up to stand before his beloved Harry, decided to set to work.

There had been this little woman shut up in a box Harry's friend Mynie would sit and stare at sometimes with shiny pink hair. The telly, she'd called it. He'd always thought it was funny. How did she get so small?

Next came the nose, and it was always a bother to change his nose. It never stayed. There was a picture at his house of a man with a very large nose, and he had always thought he looked a bit odd. The eyebrows, too, he decided, since they were more like terribly hairy worms (it was a magical portrait) than anything belonging on a face.

Deciding that he was quite done, little Teddy tugged on the bit of pants leg in front of him, then tugged a bit more when there was no response.

It was a minute before Harry disentangled himself from the daydream he was reluctantly having, in which a very angry Ginny was alternately hexing and chucking very pointy objects at him, and just hexing him outright while he raced about the yard of the Burrow, while in the background Ron, George and the other Weasley men were violently berating him for making a promise he obviously couldn't keep. What had he been thinking? Had he forgotten that Malfoy was an evil slimy little git that hated Harry and who Harry was supposed to hate back for as long as the world turned? Did he really think he could raise the son of a Death Eater?

With a despairing sigh, Harry looked down towards the tugging of his trouser legs, and let out a howl of surprise. "Teddy, what on earth have you done to yourself?" he asked, lifting the little boy onto his lap.

"Harry is supposed to laugh!" the toddler exclaimed.

It took Harry a moment to understand just what Teddy was getting at. Then he remembered. He'd been animating Teddy's blocks before his mind ran away with him, to the very near future where Ginny would be hexing him to pieces. Shaking his head to clear away the remnants of the horrid vision, he plastered on a smile and said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster "Ha! Ha!", and sent the colorful blocks bounding about the room in search of hiding.

"Hide go peek!" squealed Teddy, eagerly scrambling from Harry's lap. "Hide go peek!" He knew they'd just been waiting on Harry to be happy again. His Gran was right. He really was a bright little boy. Contenting himself that his work was done, Teddy scampered off to raise the edge of the carpet, under which a block was unsuccessfully trying to hide. "Hide go PEEK!!"

Harry watched as his godson's hair morphed from bright pink to a dazzling yellow as he raced off to collect his blocks from their hiding places. _ 'Just when I thought I've seen everything,'_ he mused. But how was Teddy going to take it. There was going to be another little person garnering his attention. It didn't mean he'd love the little morphomaniac any less. But would he understand that? He had been the center of attention for nearly five years. How would he take being upstaged by someone even smaller than he was?

_'But how do I know he's smaller?'_ Harry asked himself. Accepting the still dancing blocks Teddy dumped excitedly into his lap, he considered that he knew nothing of the Malfoy child. He didn't even know if there was a Malfoy child. Raking his brain, he found he had not heard an announcement regarding the birth of a child to one of the Wizarding community's wealthiest families. Barring that, he considered that there hadn't even been a whisper of a marriage, which was sure to have made its way into the papers, he was sure.

_'Of course, I could have just been dreaming.'_ he considered in silence. The prickly sensation of goosebumps covered his skin. But dreams don't happen like that. He was certain he was awake. No matter how real a dream was, none were ever as _tangible_ as that one had been. Not even the one's Voldemort had planted in his mind. Harry was certain he had not dreamed of Malfoy, not after all these years. It couldn't have been a dream. It couldn't have.

But, he couldn't be sure. What if it were. What if Draco Malfoy was sitting at home right now in his plush study, ordering his house elves about in the same way his father had.

But what if he wasn't. What if he really was in deep trouble and he really had used some sort of magic to visit Harry to make sure that his son would be safe when his captors killed him off? What if it was all true, and Draco was right at this very moment nearing the clutches of death, contenting himself that he had extracted a promise from Harry that his son would live a safe life?

The arrival of a tawny owl bearing an official looking letter startled him out of his thoughts. In a clean swoop, the owl circled the room, dropped the letter atop Harry's desk, and exited through the very window he had entered through. The letter, Harry saw, bore the Ministry's seal, and was addressed to _Mr. Harry James Potter, Number 12, Grimmauld Place._ All thoughts of Malfoy and death and fatherhood doom flitted from his mind as the doubts from the past few days caught up with him.

What if he didn't get in? What if he'd failed the exam? He'd spent four years training to be an Auror. What would he do if he found out he hadn't made the cut?

He could just imagine what the letter said. '_Dear Mr. Potter, We are sorry to inform you that your performance during the Final examinations of the Auror's Apprenticeship Period was so abysmally horrendous that we have no choice to exclude...'_

In a fit of anxiety, Harry grabbed up a giggling Teddy, stuffed the letter into a pocket of his robes, and approached the fireplace. After hurriedly casting a quick igniting spell while answering Teddy's "Are we going for ice cream?", Harry scooped up a handful a Floo powder, threw it in, and shouted his destination.

Many turns later, Harry stepped out of the Floo into the Weasley's living room. There was no one in here, but voices and the smell of something cooking wafted in from the kitchen, and Harry absently set Teddy down, only to have him scamper off in the direction of lunch. By the time he entered the kitchen, Teddy was already seated, quite comfortably, on Ginny's lap, giving her a full account of his morning.

Harry walked into the kitchen, still worried about his letter, only to be fussed over by Mrs. Weasley. "Harry, dear! Its so good to see you. Have you had lunch yet? Well sit down and I'll see what we can fix for you. Ron's just left for Gringott's, he's been so worried about you, said you've probably taken ill, what with all that studying. Ronald Weasley would do well to follow your example, if you ask me. Harry, why on earth are you still wearing that cloak?" With a flick of her wand, Harry's cloak took itself off to the coat closet, and Mrs. Weasley was fussing into a chair. "Oh and you've got little Teddy. Oh its so good to see you with him. I suppose he's a bit like you, though isn't he. No parents to raise him, only his grandmother, and you. That is, there's nothing wrong with you, Harry, trying to be a part of - "

But Harry wasn't listening any longer. His mind was caught on what Mrs. Weasley had said. _A bit like you, though, isn't he? No parents... _

But Teddy wasn't the only one who was left without parent's to raise him.

Draco's son was alone too.

But he, too, was a bit like Teddy, then.

For he had Harry.

The table his hands rested on seemed to swim in and out of focus, the whole room disappearing under the haze of black fog that was clouding his vision. He tried to breathe in, only to find it felt like a very tight band was around his chest, tightening slowly, slowly, cutting off his air and taking him down, down, down...

A warm hand curled itself around his fingers, another curved around he side of his jaw, turning his face ever so gently away from the table. One vision-clearing blink later, he was gazing into the eyes he'd spent far to much time gazing into over the last summer, eyes that held so much warmth and understanding, so much love that every follicle of hair of his being knew it, those eyes that could only belong to one person, only one person in the whole world...

"Harry."

Breathing was easier then, the sound of her voice clearing the tension in his chest. It was so silly, really, now that he could breathe and think, and could take in the whole of Ginny's beautiful face. Why on earth was he panicking? He wasn't alone, as Mrs. Weasley thought Teddy was. He had Ginny. He didn't have to face this alone, as though the youngest Weasley would let him if he tried. Oh she wouldn't be thrilled, Harry was sure. She had inherited Molly's rather forceful method of communication, after all. So, she would be upset. She'd think he was plain mental when he told her. But when she got it, when she _understood, _ it would all be fine. Because she had said it, hadn't she, that night right after the final battle and he had taken her aside, and apologized for not owling, not sending word, not explaining to her about those horrible horcruxes...she had said, in that hard, serious way she had about her that _nothing could stop Ginevra Weasley from loving Harry Potter, _hadn't she?

And he'd believed her. He believed her now as he believed her then, with all his magical being. And he knew it was truth.

So why was he so blasted _worried?_

Those loving brown eyes, that were so faintly worried before, were now sparkling in amusement. "You're staring."

Harry felt a grin spread across his face. "It's a really nice view," he managed to whisper.

He was rewarded with a grin. "Maybe you're not ill then," she murmured, before dropping a kiss to his lips.

"Eeeeeeee!! Rabbit! Rabbit! Rabbit!"

Something small and frantic collided with his chair, and proceeded to climb up into his lap, pulling and tugging at Harry's clothes in its efforts to reach the table.

"Teddy!" Harry exclaimed, catching the little boy before he toppled over the edge of his lap. "What on earth - "

"Rabbit cookie!" the boy exclaimed, trying his best to reach across the table. A miniature brown rabbit sat hunched in the corner of the table, little nose and ears quivering. Looking closer, Harry could see it _was _ a cookie, a fine trail of crumbs leading up to its current position. Still restraining the small boy, he turned questioning eyes to Ginny, and when she merely pried Teddy from his grip to take him around the other side of the table, to Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh Harry," she said, all motherly like in a way he didn't mind, "its an animal cookie."

"You mean like animal crackers?" he asked, a tad worried. "Like Muggles have?" Something about the way the cookie bunny moved made it seem a bit too realistic for his liking,

"Well, yes, they're similar. Animal cookies are nothing like those tiny things Muggle children are so fond of. They're a bit like Chocolate Frogs, dear, they freeze the minute you touch them." She was cut off by a triumphant squeal, and Harry turned to see Ginny settling into a chair, Teddy, in her arms, positively _glowing, _ the now still cookie clasped in his pudgy hands. For a minute it looked like all he was going to do was gaze at it in all his unrepressed glee. Then, with absolutely no preamble, he took a greedy bite from the curved of the creatures black.

For a minute Harry was horrified. A brown something oozed from the wound, and Teddy was licking it from his fingers, sucking giddily at the cookie, attacking the dribble of sweetness down his arm...

By then Harry's breathing had evened. It was only chocolate, after all. And the boy was thrilled, his eyebrows continually rocketing through the colors of a spectrum. Harry couldn't help but grin. It really was a nice picture, the one he was seeing. Teddy, beyond himself in excitement, occasionally bouncing in Ginny's lap with glee as she held him fast and made sure he didn't soil his clothes, Teddy valiantly fighting off the napkin Ginny was just as valiantly wielding in an effort to clean away the chocolate smudges decorating his cheeks and forehead, Ginny threatening to take away his cookie of Teddy didn't hold still so she could clean him up, Teddy freezing while nibbling on an ear, looking as if he though he rather thought _no one _could be that _cruel _ to him, surely...

He turned to glance at Mrs. Weasley, only to find her eyes intently studying him. A bit of unease stole into him at that. Why was she studying him so? He opened his mouth to ask, but before he drew breath, she was asking him, in a careful way, "So, what had you so upset Harry?" She cast an almost furtive glance at Ginny. Hmmm...That was strange.

"I, uh, well," thinking quickly, Harry said, "I, uh, I got my results today an - "

"Oh Harry that's wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, whatever she was worried about before now quite far from her mind. "Ginny, isn't that wonderful?" she asked, still beaming at Harry.

"It really is wonderful Harry." Ginny said, her chin resting atop Teddy's head as she peered at him curiously. "But that still doesn't explain why you were so upset. How'd you do?"

Harry flushed. "Well, er, that's just it, see? I haven't opened it - "

The female Weasleys exchanged a look, which unnerved Harry even more.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Ginny said smoothly. "Well, what are you waiting for? Open it!"

"I, er - "

"Oh Harry. It's not your _fault, _" said Mrs. Weasley, sympathetically.

Harry thought first that sounded suspiciously like Hermione, and then that he hadn't a clue what she was talking about.

Ginny shot her mother a look he couldn't read, and returned her gaze to Harry's. "Of course its not."

Thinking that they somehow meant his results, so he replied, "Of course its my fault. I should have tried harder t - "

"No you mustn't think like that Harry, dear. No one knew what was going on."

More puzzled by her words, Harry said, "Of course someone knew what was going on. _Everyone _ knew what was going on. I've only been studying to be an Auror for four years -"

That made her quiet. Ginny was quietly assessing him. "You really don't know then?"

Harry suddenly felt deflated. That did _not _ sound good. "Know what?"

"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley said softly.

Ginny stood, and, setting Teddy down to start in on his sandwich, headed over to the low stand that held the mail and a few bits of _The Prophet._ She came back clutching a copy, a strange look coming across her face. "I'm sorry Harry. I really am."

He reached for the parchment she was hading him, his hand shaking slightly. He grasped it and set it down on the paper. Only when he was sure it was laid out flat did he focus on the letters in large bold print covering the top half of that edition of _The Prophet._

_LAST MALFOY AND WIFE FOUND DEAD AT MANOR. FAMILY LINE ENDS IN SUSPICION  
_

The air was suddenly thick as treacle, and Harry could barely draw breath. Draco was dead. _Malfoy was DEAD._ He had a horrible suspicion his heart had stopped beating. What had Draco said? _'He will come when I am gone...'_ And Draco _was _ gone. What did that mean? Would the boy suddenly appear in a sparkle of magic? He tried looking about himself, just in case a basket should just appear out of nowhere, but his eyes were beginning to tunnel.

Ginny's hands were clasping his in an instant. It helped, but it wasn't complete. Harry felt like he had been knocked in the stomach by a Bludger, then cut off to drift in the air.

"See, Harry, we thought you knew." She gently pushed his fringe back from his forehead. "We thought you saw the paper this morning, and that you didn't want to open your letter because you didn't want to have to go and investigate Malfoy's death."

Her words trickled into his mind from a far, far distance. What did she _mean?_

His confusion must have shown on his face, because Ginny softly explained, "Your letter Harry. All Aurors were to report to duty immediately. Ron's gotten his and he headed straight out." She smiled at his furrowed brow. "No, he didn't just leave for Gringotts. We didn't want you worrying about how he'd take it."

That made sense. Harry breathed easier. That made sense. It really did. _Malfoy was dead._ But where was the child?

A coil of tension released itself from the base of his neck. He hadn't even realized he was tensing for...something. Looking around he saw Mrs. Weasley fussing over Teddy, and was pleasantly surprised to see the boy looked a bit sleepy. '_Just as well,_ he thought. Squeezing Ginny's fingers gently, Harry stood and began to gather up his little godson. "We'll just be going now. Teddy's had a long da - "

"Harry, maybe you should - "

"No, Gin, I'm fine. Really, I'll just - "

"Now Harry. Please. Ginny only wants - "

"Thanks for lunch Mrs. Weasley. Really, I'll just be going - "

He was halfway to the fireplace when a sparkle of green erupted in the air in front of him. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have known it had happened. But suddenly, there stood a little brown elf, his wrinkled skin sagging around the tea towel he wore toga-style. Before Harry had time to register that this was _not _ going to go well, the elf was addressing him in a high, clear voice.

"Mr. Harry Potter, _sir!_"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Harry stared. He could have retreated to the comfort of the kitchen. He could have kept walking straight into the fireplace and forced the elf to follow him back to Grimmauld Place. He could have even dropped into the nearest chair and cover his face in his hands, or Teddy's abundant violet hair, seeing as he was still holding the boy. But he stood, in the middle of The Burrow's living room, stock still, staring at the wizened old elf as if staring at him long enough would make him go away.

When Harry finally blinked, the bottom seemed to be knocked from his stomach. The elf was still there, gazing up at him through those enormous green eyes. He almost shuddered. It all came back to him then, the entire weird visit from a few nights over, the headline from the paper Ginny had just shown him, _Oh Merlin_, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley standing behind him. What on earth was he going to do? The silence was suddenly palatable, which wouldn't do at all. The longer everyone stayed silent the longer it would take for Harry to get away, the more time they'd have to figure out why exactly there was a Malfoy elf standing in front of Harry holding a large wicker basket over his arm, complete with white cloth hiding the contents within.

Because there was no mistaking it. This was indeed a house elf in the Malfoy employ. Or, er, late Malfoy employ, or something. The elaborately embroidered M spoke for itself, its brilliant green standing out from the plain white of the tea-towel. Harry's mind was frantic. What to do, _what to do?_

He was saved from having to do anything immediate by Teddy, who yawned widely, and gave the diminutive figure a sleepy "Hallo there", before insisting that his Harry let his Gin take him off to bed. "I don't wanna Foo now," he whined when Harry remained unresponsive, wiggling in Harry's arms till he was almost level with his god-father's stomach. "I really don't."

Thankfully Ginny rescued him, then, wrapping him up warmly in her arms, promising a nice long story later when Uncle Harry was feeling better. Peeking over her shoulder, Teddy saw that Harry did indeed look a bit ill. 'Funny' thought the young wizard. 'I always thought Uncle Harry liked house elves. Hmm" Teddy could tell this was a matter that deserved all of his cleverness, it did, but my, wasn't he tired. And then Ginny was passing him over to Mrs. Weasley and, oh, she did smell like cookies, all complete with warm softness, and all his little eyes had time to glimpse was Ginny talking softly to Harry, before Mrs. Weasley walked far enough away so that the living room wasn't even in his line of vision. But that was alright then, Ginny would make sure Harry felt better, she would. And when Teddy woke up she'd tell him that story she promised, and Harry would sit with them and wrap them both up in his arms and all would be right again. All would be right...

Harry, however, was feeling no such compunction to feel so very optimistic. In all actuality, his world had up and decided to collapse in on itself. How, just _how _had he managed to let this happen? He silently scoffed at himself. It came right down to his saving people thing, and he knew it. He'd all but jumped at the chance save Draco that night, hadn't he? He'd accepted care for the miniature Malfoy simply because nothing could be done to save the senior, and now what was he doing but paying for that bit of Gryffindor recklessness...

Ginny was beside him then, or maybe she had been for some time. He felt himself being firmly lowered into a chair, the strangely silent house elf never moving from his line of vision. He could imagine she was talking, but his senses seemed to be limited to sight only, and in particular only the sight before him.

But soon, the life began to return to his senses, and then he could feel Giny's hand through his hair, could hear her voice speaking to him in low, soothing tones. "Everything will be alright Harry" she said. "Absolutely everything will be just fine, just as soon as you breathe." Harry released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and immediately his vision, which had begun to tunnel, spread out. He realized he was still in the Burrow's living room, and through his haze barely registered a small bit of panic when the elf quietly addressed him.

"Mister Harry Potter?" The elf's eyes were wide, searching the man before him for any signs of falsehood. Master, his late master, Poli silently corrected himself, had Poli follow the man for a few days. Poli was certain the man sitting before him was the man master had spoken to that night when master had asked Poli to use his magic to speak to him. This man was a great wizard, Poli knew. Master never spoke of him, not even in those last days of life, but house elves knew. They knew of The-Boy-Who-Lived and how he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named after so many years of fighting. All the Malfoy elves knew, too, that Harry Potter had saved master's life, but none were sure if that was why master treated the house elves better when he returned from school, or if it was because Master's father Master Lucius was taken away to Azkaban.

But, still, the man did not look away, though his eyes held a bit of fear. Poli noticed that he had a tight hold of the red-headed woman's hand. Poli took a tentative step forward. "Poli is here to bring to Harry Potter Master Draco Malfoy's son."

So it was real. He really had inherited the Malfoy child. He vaguely wondered if becoming a father was supposed to make you feel a bit ill. His death grip on Ginny's hand relaxed as he nodded. Better to get this over with. A hand briefly brushed at his fringe before another squeezed his arm. Harry hoped he'd be able to explain, really explain, just how all this happened to Ginny later. He stared down the basket as it came closer to him, the house elf stopping right in front of his knees to pull away the white cloth covering the child within.

Harry gasped. That was _not_ what he had expected to see. He took in the entire appearance from above, mulling that over. What had he expected then? A thin faced blonde baby doing his best to sneer at him, probably, he thought. But, looking down, all he got was the angelic face of a sleeping baby, his thumb stuck in his mouth and the fingers of his other hand were lost in the mass of brown curls atop his head. The child wasn't even dressed in green, as Harry has suspected, but was wearing a sky blue nappy complete with footies, and half wrapped around his middle was a baby blanket, decorated with baby snakes and lions surrounding an elaborately stitched 'DSM'.

Poli watched Harry Potter very carefully. At first the man had looked surprised, then his features softened as he gazed at the sleeping child. He was not surprised in the least when the dark haired man moved as if to pick up the child only to abort halfway, and cover it by folding his arms.

And Harry hoped they would stay that way. Unfortunately for him however, once he'd thought of picking up the sleeping Malfoy, his arms wouldn't get the idea out of their heads. He resorted to folding them around Ginny, who was still seated on the arm of the chair she had sat him in. He looked up as the elf cleared his throat quietly.

"Young master would not wake up if Harry Potter held him, Poli is knowing," said the elf. He was right. Young master was under a very deep sleep, and would not awake till the next morning, but Harry Potter was not to know that. He was not to know either that young master would not wake up if Harry Potter did not accept young master as his own. But Harry Potter was not to know that either. Poli didn't think he had anything to worry about, really. Harry Potter looked about ready to hold the child and never let go, so the elf was certain he would not have to tell him of Late Master Draco's lengths to ensure young master's safety.

Harry's arms, now feeling vindicated that _someone_ understood their feelings, quickly unwound themselves from around Ginny's waist, much to their owner's utter amazement. Before he could wrap his mind around their apparent betrayal, the little bundle of human was safely ensconced in his arms, unruly curls dropping to hover over the small closed eyes, and soft blanket wrapped snugly around his middle.

Poli nodded. It was done. The magic his late master had wound around his young master had loosed. Young master would wake up tomorrow morning, and young master would be safe. The wrinkly elf smiled. He had done his job, the last job his dear, dear Master Draco had given him.


End file.
